From Storms to Thrones (Part 1)

Chapter 37: Take Me to Church

I've never been religious. Raised agnostic, I never quite grasped the idea of worshiping some unseen deity. But with Rhaenyra in my hands, with her trembling under me, I think I finally understood what it meant to believe in something higher. Between her thighs, with the heat of her desire on my tongue, I found a kind of divinity—something sacred and overwhelming.

In that moment, it was as if I had discovered a new form of worship, one that felt more real and profound than any faith I'd ever heard of.

There was something indescribable about bringing Rhaenyra to the edge, something that made me feel invincible, like the most powerful woman in the room. Perhaps it was because, in that moment, I had the most powerful woman in this world unraveling beneath my touch, reduced to something utterly human and vulnerable. Her composure, her regal presence—all of it melted away. What was left wasn't the Queen of Westeros or the commanding figure known to bend even the strongest wills.

It was simply Rhaenyra, stripped of her titles, lost in the sensations I gave her.

The way she responded was intoxicating. The sounds—barely audible whimpers, soft little gasps—were so unlike the voice she used in the council chambers or when commanding armies. Her body, gods, her body reacted to every movement, every stroke, as if her very skin sought out my lips, my hands, as if she needed the contact to survive. Her muscles tensed and shifted under my touch, and I could feel her whole being surrender to the pleasure I was giving her.

As I looked up from my place between her legs, I saw her head thrown back against the couch, her body arching in a way that exposed her throat in the most tantalizing manner. The whimpers that escaped her lips were like music to me. Her hand, which often guided with a firm grip, now gently threaded through my hair, not pulling or directing, but simply touching—softly.

Everything about her in this moment was gentle, every interaction imbued with a tender softness that was both intimate and profoundly moving. The sheer vulnerability and trust she displayed were so moving that they nearly brought tears to my eyes. As I brought my lips to the tiny, sensitive bud that made Rhaenyra's legs tremble around my ears, the moment felt almost sacred.

"Elizabeth," she whimpered, her voice trembling as she uttered my name. The way she said it, filled with such raw emotion, was like a soft, intimate confession—a fragile whisper that cut through the room, carrying with it the weight of her complete surrender and trust.

I took my time, savoring every moment as I moved my tongue slowly, deliberately, not wanting to rush this. I wanted to prolong the sensation, to draw out her pleasure until it was almost unbearable. Each stroke was measured, each flick of my tongue designed to push her just a little closer to the edge without letting her fall. Her body responded to every subtle movement, her trembling legs tightening around me, but I resisted the urge to quicken my pace.

This wasn't something to hurry—it was something to savor, to cherish in its entirety.

"Please," she whimpered, her voice fragile and breathless, the soft plea wrapping around my heart like a vice grip. The sound of her begging, so unlike the powerful queen she usually was, sent a shiver through me. It was a surrender not just of her body but of her pride, her control—everything that made Rhaenyra who she was. The weight of that trust, the vulnerability she allowed herself to show, made my heart pound in my chest.

I wanted to tell her it was okay, that I had her, that she was safe in my hands. God, I had the overwhelming urge to call her "baby," to offer her that simple, intimate reassurance, but that would mean pulling my mouth away from her—and there was no chance of that, not when I had her so close. Instead, I let my actions speak for me. I slid my hand up and entered her, first two fingers, then three, the slick warmth of her drawing me in. The sheer wetness still took my breath away every time.